Thirty years ago today we were introduced to a new band and a new anti-hero of sorts. Counting Crows put out their first album, the Geffen release August & Everything After this day in 1993, and with it the big first hit of theirs, “Mr. Jones”.
Counting Crows are the San Francisco area band formed by singer/songwriter Adam Duritz a couple of years before that. The album certainly sounded different than much of what was happening in new rock at the time, eschewing grunge in favor of folk-rock flavored, often slowish introspective tunes showcasing Duritz’s wet week in winter voice. Generally it got good reviews, with many comparing them to Van Morrison. It ended up being huge, and still the Crows biggest album by far (7X platinum in both the U.S. and Canada, platinum in Britain and New Zealand) but perhaps significantly, it took several months to take off. In fact, “Mr. Jones” only peaked on the charts late in the spring of 1994. Coincidentally or not, it seemed to take the death of Kurt Cobain for the public to warm to the Crows new musical vision.
The first single was “Mr. Jones” – at least technically. At home, Geffen never put it out to the public as a 7” vinyl or CD single, though it was in many other countries. But it was pushed heavily to radio as a single, and they embraced it in time.
The song about the guy who and his buddy who want to be “big, big stars” and maybe like Bob Dylan or someone a little more funky was written by Duritz with a little help from his guitarist, Dave Bryson. The Grateful Dead had once had a sorta hit with “Casey Jones” and Billy Paul left his mark on the music world with the cheating sizzler “Me and Mrs. Jones”. So who was the Crows’ Jones? Did he exist?
Kind of. Duritz says it was about himself and his friend Marty, another musician. “We went out one night to watch his dad play. His dad was a flamenco guitarist, who lived in Spain” but happened to be playing in San Fran. They watched his dad, admired the music and went to a bar later dreaming of fame and the lack of loneliness that accompanied it. Although later he’d say “I wrote that song about me – I just happened to be out with him.”
Although seemingly clueless about the lifestyles of the rich and famous, Duritz said basically the song was meant to be a parody of dumb people. “You’re supposed to see through that guy. You’re supposed to know it’s not true.” To emphasize the fact (after according to Songfacts, fame actually scared Duritz and “sent him into a prolonged funk”, dating Jennifer Aniston notwithstanding) he would later change the lyrics while played live to “we all want to be big, big stars, but we get second thoughts about that.”
the song was certainly catchy and a hit, and even became a sociological term. Social scientist Jonathan Powell wrote a book entitled Generation Jones, using the song name to describe the cohort of people that fell somewhere between the end of the Baby Boom and the start of Generation X… those who’d have been around 30-35 at the time the record was out and were probably exactly who flocked to it.
Although most critics thought Duritz was trying to copy Van Morrison, most loved the tune. Entertainment Weekly was the notable exception, saying it was “one of those rare records that make your jaw drop and your mouth blurt out ‘who is that?’ – but not necessarily for good reasons!”. The public disagreed with that mag, it would seem. “Mr. Jones” was a #1 hit in Canada (and among the top 5 of 1994 there) and hit #5 by radio play in the States, #2 on both Alternative and Mainstream rock charts. And although one or two subsequent singles by them may have charted higher on certain charts, since the Crows are still flying three decades later and recognized, it seems like “Mr. Jones” was the one who made them big stars. Big, big stars.